


Revelation

by azziria



Series: Fair trade [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: AU, Dubious Consent, M/M, Prostitution, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-26
Updated: 2011-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azziria/pseuds/azziria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny's suddenly got more questions than answers. <i>Fair trade</i> 'verse.</p><p>Warning - this is fairly dark and brutal - please pass on by if likely to be upset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> More dark hooker!fic from the _Fair trade_ series. Danny is a hard bastard and Steve is very damaged.

  


It's a dog-eat-dog world, Danny learnt that a long time ago, and it's far better to be a top dog than one of the also-rans lower down the pack. The strong prosper, the weak fail, and everybody pretty much gets what they deserve in this life.

Back when he first became a cop he quickly realized that being strong got you respect. That other cops looked up to someone who was tough, who took no shit. That if he was going to get anywhere in his chosen profession then he had to prove that he could handle himself. It wasn't long before he also realized that there were perks to be had for those who were prepared to step up and take them. That if he didn't take them, then somebody else would. And that his colleagues admired him for being someone with the balls to do the taking.

After a while he stopped thinking about the right or wrong of it and began to understand that it was his due. After all, it's the law of the jungle, the strong take what they want from the weak. It's the natural order of things. And if the weak don't like it then they know what they have to do.

And it's not as if he's a completely heartless bastard. He _is_ taking care of McGarrett, after all, and it's not like there's anyone else who gives a damn about the man. It's not like he gives a damn about himself, come to that, if he's let himself fall this far. But nobody in this life gets a free ride, nobody gets something for nothing, and so it's only fair that McGarrett gives him something in return. A fair trade.

So last night McGarrett made nice with Danny, and this morning Danny's buying him breakfast. Making sure he has a decent meal before he lets him back out onto the streets. Might even take him to the Goodwill and buy him some clean clothes before he turns him loose.

Danny leans back, arm across the back of his seat, sips his coffee and smiles to himself as he thinks about last night. He'd promised himself a celebration, and that's what he'd had. He'd started off by fucking McGarrett long and slow, taking his time, and then for the second round he'd had him on his knees, cuffed to the rail in the bathroom while he used that pretty, pretty mouth. And really, McGarrett's good at that, Danny wonders every time how many men he's blown, whether he was that good at sucking cock back when he was in the Navy, before he ended up working the streets. He could ask, but he doesn't think McGarrett would tell him.

He'd ordered in, pizza and beer, even asked McGarrett what he wanted. That earned him one of those lost looks, like McGarrett couldn't figure out why he wanted to know, but also got him an answer: ham and pineapple, an abomination that McGarrett consumed with a focus and determination that said he was sure that Danny was about to change his mind.

After dinner he'd indulged himself again, stretching out lazily on the bed and letting McGarrett ride him, enjoying the feeling of that hot, tight body clenching around his dick. It took a while to get off, after all it was the third time that evening, and he's not twenty any more, but hey, he had all the time in the world, and it wasn't as if McGarrett had anywhere else to go or anything better to do. When he was done he cuffed McGarrett to the rail again, only one hand this time so that he could prop himself up against the wall more comfortably, and tossed him a pillow and a blanket. Better off there for the night in the warm and the dry with the prospect of breakfast than out on the streets up against who-knew-what.

Besides, Danny's a big fan of morning blow jobs.

He's startled out of his reverie by his phone. A quick glance at the screen shows him that it's Toast, and that's quick work. It's worth turning a blind eye to Toast's little drug habit in return for information; the guy may be stoned out of his mind most of the time, but when he's not, he's useful.

"Hey, Jersey!" Toast sounds bright, he obviously hasn't fired up his first joint of the day yet. And a little more respect wouldn't go amiss, but what the hell, you can't expect too much from these people.

"You got something for me?" He'd texted the serial number from the dog tags in McGarrett's pocket to Toast the night before. Knowledge is power, he'd learnt that a long time ago, and anyway, he's curious.

"Yeah, I've got something. You said this guy's on the streets, right? You sure you got that straight, brah, because I have to say, this McGarrett dude's impressive."

"Impressive?"

"Yeah, man. Led a SEAL team in Afghanistan. Says here that his boys walked into a Taliban ambush, and it was only thanks to him that any of them got home alive. 'Drew enemy fire at great risk to his own personal safety', shit like that. Decorated for it, brah."

No way is that possible. He shoots a look at McGarrett, ragged and unshaven, hunched over his plate and working his way through the stack of pancakes like someone who definitely isn't sure where his next meal is coming from, or even if he'll be allowed to finish this one. No fucking way. No fucking way is this a guy who'd rescued a group of soldiers from enemy fire. Fuck it, this loser can't even rescue himself. So where the fuck had McGarrett - or whoever he is - where the fuck had he got those dog tags? Had he stolen them, or something worse? Why is he using McGarrett's identity? And if he isn't Steven McGarrett, then who the hell is he? What the fuck sort of crazy is Danny dealing with here?

"Hey, Jersey, you still there? I've got a photo, I could send it to you if you want."

A photo, yeah. Best to be sure. "You do that. I'll be in touch," and he cuts the call, puts the phone down on the table. He'll have the truth from this asshole, he thinks, whatever it takes. He feels a surge of anger and contempt in his gut. _Nobody_ lies to Danny Williams and gets away with it, however well he sucks cock.

Toast's quick with the photo. Lieutenant Steven J. McGarrett, SEAL Team Ten. Decorated war hero. Crisp and neat in dress blues, clean shaven, hair trimmed short, staring confidently into the camera.

It's like a punch to Danny's gut.

He looks across at the man in front of him. He's thinner in the face, in need of a shave, has shadows under his eyes and looks worn down and exhausted (not really surprising considering how the poor bastard spent the night, Danny thinks, and pulls himself up short because, Danny Williams, feeling sorry for a hooker, he must be getting soft) but it's the same man as in the photo. Steven J. McGarrett, who saved the lives of half a SEAL team in Afghanistan and was decorated for it. A fucking _war hero_ , no less. Shit. So how the _hell_ does a guy like him come to be living on the streets and whoring himself out for a living? Danny's suddenly got more questions than answers, and that doesn't make him a happy man.

He props the phone up on the table in front of him, screen outwards. "Hey, McGarrett," he says, "You want to tell me what's going on?" McGarrett freezes, fork halfway to his mouth, and Danny sees his eyes flick down to the screen, up to Danny's face and then back down to the screen. For a moment he thinks he sees fear, panic even, in those dark eyes, and then in one fluid movement McGarrett is up out of his chair and gone, fork clattering onto the table. Fuck this, Danny thinks, as he pockets his phone and shoves himself up out of his seat to go after him. All he'd been after was a quick fuck and the occasional blow job, a fair trade, no strings attached. Trust him to pick a head case with a mysterious past. And he'd leave it, he really would, go find himself some other pretty mouth to fuck, there are plenty of them out there, after all, but nobody takes Danny Williams for a fool, he wants some answers and he's fucking well going to get them.

The street's pretty empty, the sightlines are clear, and there's no sign of McGarrett, but he can't have gone far, he hasn't had time. The alley, Danny thinks, spotting the dark gap between the buildings opposite, that's where he'll have gone to ground, and he heads across the street at a run.

The alley's narrow, in deep shadow, with a line of dumpsters down one side and piles of bagged trash heaped up along the wall. It's also blind, and McGarrett's there, crouched in a corner at the far end. As he sees Danny he comes to his feet, every line of his body screaming flight or fight, and he looks like a cornered animal, feral and dangerous. He's got a knife in his hand, a small and vicious thing that glints wickedly, boot knife, Danny thinks, and how did he miss that, must be getting slack, should have known McGarrett wouldn't go unarmed, he was a SEAL after all. "Hey, McGarrett," he says, keeping his tone light and spreading his hands wide, palms out as he walks towards him. "I just want to talk, OK?" McGarrett's tense and sweating, backed against the wall, and his eyes are wild, staring right through Danny as though he's watching something behind him.

"Keep away from me!"

Danny stops. "Hey, I don't want any trouble, I just want to talk."

"I said keep away!" And Danny's clearly not getting through to him, is going to get a knife to the gut if he's not careful, and is some cheap whore really worth that, however pretty his mouth?

A cheap whore who just happens to have a spotless war record. Shit.

Danny has an idea, a change of tactics. He straightens up and snaps out "Lieutenant! Stand down and put the knife away!"

McGarrett stares at him, shakes his head as though he's trying to clear it. "No, sir, I can't do that. It's not safe to do that." But there's doubt in his voice, just a hint, so Danny lowers his tone, keeps it commanding and insistent. "Lieutenant, that's an order. Put the knife down."

For a moment, for just the briefest second, he sees McGarrett falter, sees the hand holding the knife waver, but then a tremor runs through his entire body and the knife's back up, the eyes narrow and hard. "No, that's not right. You're just trying to fool me, you can't fool me, I'm not going back there, you can't make me," and he's moving, coming forward, knife out in front of him, sliding past Danny with his back to the wall and hatred in his eyes. "I thought you understood, but you're one of them, you're a liar just like the rest of them. Stay away from me!" And with that he takes a few steps back and he's away, twisting out of the alley at a run, leaving Danny standing with his heart thumping in his chest and a curse on his lips.

Damn McGarrett. He should walk away from this now, leave well alone, he tells himself. Go find some other whore to get his rocks off with. No quick fuck's worth this.

With a sigh he pulls his phone from his pocket and thumbs through his contacts looking for Toast's number. He needs more information. McGarrett's clearly not stable enough to be left out there on the streets, no way, and Danny _is_ a cop, after all, it is his job to keep things safe for the law-abiding citizens of Hawaii. He could - should - call it in, hand the problem over to the uniform boys, get shot of McGarrett and everything that goes along with him and get on with doing his job, with being a detective, but for some reason that he can't quite figure out he doesn't want to do that.

The whore's nothing but _fucking_ trouble, he should have known that from the start. So how come he feels so _fucking_ responsible for McGarrett all of a sudden?

Cursing himself for a damn fool, he hits 'call' and waits for Toast to pick up.


End file.
